


Lean In

by jalapeno_jazz



Series: Madame Minister [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 06:22:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17617169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalapeno_jazz/pseuds/jalapeno_jazz
Summary: Ahhh...the challenge faced by working moms everywhere - how exactly to keep all the plates spinning at once.





	Lean In

_Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch - 2:30pm_

The game was over and his team had won. Scorpius still clutched the Snitch in his gloved hand, surrounded by his teammates and friends who had gathered to congratulate him on a tremendous catch. It had been a dogfight of a game, with both teams playing for a spot in the championship match. As the crowd thinned, he looked around and saw his father standing on the side. Alone. Draco nodded his head in acknowledgement and gave his son a smile — thank Merlin he hadn’t inherited Hermione’s lack of aptitude for flying. Scorpius nodded back and headed towards the locker room to shower and change.

When he emerged a short time later, he waved off his friends, heading towards his dad but stopped when he noticed Draco was no longer alone. His mother and Uncle Harry had both joined his father, which unfortunately also meant a crowd of students and more than a few adults had gathered nearby — not close enough to intrude, but not far enough away to afford the group any real privacy. Whether they were waiting to speak with the Minister or just stare at the Boy Who Lived A Really Long Time Ago, he didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. The headmistress — who he’d been told many times was his mother’s favorite professor and now a family friend — was in deep discussion with Hermione. Scorpius abruptly turned on his heel, hoping to head off in the other direction or duck back into the locker room before he was spotted.

“Scorp!” He heard a familiar voice call his name. He stopped and turned, slowly retracing his steps and heading back to where the trio was waiting for him with the headmistress.

“Hey, Uncle Harry,” he responded in a rather lukewarm manner, noticing his father’s eyebrow raise.

“I hear that was quite a catch!” His uncle prompted, reaching out and clapping his shoulder.

“Not as brilliant as the catch you made to win the House Cup in your second year, but yeah, we won.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Scorp. Your dad told me it was brilliant,” Harry continued. “And besides, in my second year, the Seeker for the other team was absolute rubbish.” He grinned, turning to look at Draco as he did so. 

Draco looked decidedly unamused.

 

Hermione finished her conversation with the headmistress and turned, moving to hug her son. “Scorpius… well done! We’re so proud of you.”

Scorpius held up one hand, as if to stop her before she said anything else. 

“Unfortunately, you missed it, Mum… again.”

Only those who knew Hermione intimately would have noticed how she straightened her back almost imperceptibly. And while she no longer worried her lip — unless it was late at night and she was pouring over the documents on her desk — she did clench them together when she was bothered, so Scorpius knew he had scored a point. His father, however, gave him a disappointed look.

Duties of a Malfoy. Yes, yes. He’d heard the speech many times — what was expected of him and how he should act in public. Because _his_ actions reflected not only on his family, but also his mother and her career.

  _Blah. Blah. Blah._

 

Harry stepped in to diffuse the situation. “I believe we’re heading down to Hogsmeade to grab some Butterbeers. James and Al have already gone ahead to get us a table. Join us?” Harry put his arm around his nephew’s shoulder and started steering him towards the path to town, his parents trailing some distance behind.

“I know what you are going to say…” The young Malfoy started.

“Oh? You do?” Harry responded, but said no more.

Scorpius sighed. “She said she’d be here for this one. This was my toughest match all year, and she hasn’t made it to _any_ of them. I don’t even know why I continue to get my hopes up.”

“It’s hard being the Minister’s kid, isn’t it?” Harry said after a few steps.

“It’s miserable.”

“All the time?”

“Of course not, Uncle Harry! Not _all_ the time. Just the times when she _should_ be around but she’s not. Other parents seem to make it to school events and be there for their kids.”

“Are you saying she’s not there for you?”

“Yes… I mean, no. I don’t know.”

Harry didn’t reply, letting Scorpius sort out his thoughts.

“Yes, she’s there for me. She sends me a letter every week — a really long one! Usually it’s at least three feet of parchment. I can’t even open it at the breakfast table, in case it tumbles into my cereal.” He rolled his eyes at the thought. “She always sends a treat when she has to travel for work.” He paused again. “She’s _almost_ always there to drop me off and pick me up from the Hogwarts Express. She’s great at helping me with my summer work…” His voice drifted off and his uncle pulled him closer to his side.

“It’s hard being the Minister’s kid, sometimes, I think. Every now and then, you just want to have a mum.”

“Yeah, Uncle Harry. It’s just hard sharing her with everyone. And, as you know…”

“Malfoys don’t like to share,” they droned in unison, both chuckling at the oft-repeated phrase.

“I don’t know about that. You’ve always been pretty good at sharing,” Harry responded, reaching over to tousle Scorpius’s still damp hair.

“Having a younger sister will do that to you… and having Weasleys for cousins,” Scorpius grinned.

They walked along in silence for a while.

“You good?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.” Scorpius took a deep breath. “Thanks, Uncle Harry.”

Harry reached out and grabbed the handle of the door to the Three Broomsticks, holding it open for his nephew. “Anytime, Scorp. Just so you know… I’m the one who held her up this morning. And she was _really_ not happy about being delayed.”

Scorpius turned and took in the inscrutable look on his uncle’s face as Harry ducked into the tavern behind him, spotting his boys waiting for them at a table. He paused, giving that last comment some thought before joining his cousins at the table. When his parents arrived, his father purposefully guided his mother to the empty seat next to him, veering off towards the other end of the table once she was seated.

 

“I’m truly sorry I missed the game, Scorpius,” she began carefully.

“Mum, I know. I’m sorry for my comment earlier. Uncle Harry told me that he held you up.”

“While that is very true—” Hermione cut a glance towards Harry who was eyeing her cautiously from a few seats away “—it still means that I wasn’t there and I didn’t get to see you play.”

“Well then, you’ll just have to sit and listen to my recap then, won’t you?” Scorpius gave his mother a smirk and began to launch into his retelling, beginning from the time his team took to the field. Soon James and Al joined in, providing color commentary on the more salient points of the game. Everyone knew, while Hermione didn’t love Quidditch, she did love her family and she listened with rapt attention.

 

As afternoon turned to evening, the boys said their goodbyes and headed back towards Hogwarts with Harry in tow, planning to stop at Honeydukes to load their pockets before returning to the castle.

Draco turned to his wife as they watched Harry and the boys enter the shop. “You okay?” He leaned down and whispered into Hermione’s ear.

“Of course not! It’s always the same. I _hate_ missing his games.”

“You hate missing _anything_. He knows that you aren’t always able to be there, Hermione.” He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

She stopped to look up at her husband, “And that makes me feel even worse.”

“Love, you can’t be everything to everyone all at once. It was just a Quidditch game. Don’t let it bother you.”

She gave a heavy sigh. “It’s the balance, Draco. How do I manage this job and be a decent mum, let alone a wife and daughter, or friend? When was the last time we did something — just the two of us — that didn’t have to do with work? When did I last have lunch with Ginny? Or Luna? Or have time to read a book just because I wanted to? Not everyone gets to be their own boss like you.”

He gazed at his wife intently, “Oh? I thought you were in charge. I thought you made the rules.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “You know what I mean. It’s not that simple.”

“No, love,” he responded, “it’s not. But surely being the Minister provides some flexibility, if you want it to? You have deputies for a reason. If Potter can’t handle it…” His voice trailed off, seeing the look in her eyes that meant he was one word away from getting in trouble.

“I’m just saying,” he continued, daring to brave the waters, “you are the smartest person I know. If anyone can figure out how to make it work, _you_ can.” He raised her hand to his mouth, kissing it gently. “And besides, nine times out of ten, you make it work brilliantly.”

She raised an eyebrow at this. “And the tenth?”

“Well,” he grinned and wagged his eyebrows, “let’s just say you can make it up to me tonight.”

Hermione took her free hand and smacked her husband’s arm. “Prat.”

“Swot.”

“Ferret.”

Draco sighed, “And _there_ it is. Will I ever live that down?”

“Unlikely,” Hermione said with a grin, and with a twist they Disapparated home.

 


End file.
